Damian did not rush forward.
For the first time in a long while, he deliberately restrained himself. His violet eyes slowly swept across the mountain, then toward the skies above Lebanon before returning to Fulgur. Every instinct in his body urged caution. He had fought countless enemies since arriving in the Underworld, yet never had he encountered someone whose words inspired such instinctive trust. It irritated him.
His gaze shifted from the dragon's face to the twin Raikiri rods before scanning the surrounding terrain once more.
Something was missing, there had to be.
Fulgur had openly claimed he had prepared specifically for Damian's ability to steal inheritances. That meant there was another piece to this puzzle, another contingency he had yet to uncover. Yet no matter how carefully he observed his surroundings, nothing appeared out of place.
The strange part was that Damian knew he was not under any spell. No illusion clouded his judgment or emotions.
